The scent of freshly baked croissants wafted through the air as a bell jingled, announcing the entrance of a new customer. "Morning, Margaret." "Good morning, Lucy. I see you're already hard at work." "Baking is my passion, you know that," Lucy replied, wiping her hands on her apron. "But enough about me, I heard there's been some excitement in town." "You mean besides the annual quilt festival?" Margaret asked, arching an eyebrow. "No, I heard talk of a murder," Lucy said, lowering her voice to a whisper. "Oh, that," Margaret sighed, rolling her eyes. "It was just old Mr. Thompson. He passed away in his sleep." "But I heard it was suspicious," Lucy pressed. "That's just town gossip. The doctor said it was natural causes," Margaret explained, pouring a cup of coffee for Lucy. "Well, I suppose you're right," Lucy conceded, taking a sip. "But you can't blame us for getting excited. Not much happens around here." "That's the charm of small towns, isn't it?" Margaret smiled. "Now, what can I get you today?" "Just my usual, please," Lucy replied, taking a seat at the counter. As Lucy enjoyed her breakfast, the bell jangled again, signaling the arrival of another customer. Lucy glanced up, curious to see who the next bit of town gossip would come from.